


Not Even Then

by DuncanByrne



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, POV First Person, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trek Women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuncanByrne/pseuds/DuncanByrne
Summary: Tasha wakes up from a nightmare about what happened on her home planet. Thank god her wife is there to help her.





	Not Even Then

I’m not even screaming, and somehow, that’s the worst part of it all. 

I’m just sitting in a dank, dark alleyway, clutching my golden tabby cat’s matted wet fur, my knees poking out of shabby frayed skirt fabric onto the cold pavement, eyes wide open as I wait passively for the gang to come across my dead end--ears pricked to the growing, roaring sounds of the men’s voices shouting triumphantly through the passageways, their delight at having found new prey to feast on. 

I’m not screaming. Not even when they dash into my sewer hideaway. Not even when their ringleader grabs me by the shoulders and shoves my back onto the slimy surface of the sewer floor. Not even when they crowd around me, darkening the whole room as they surround me, tearing, cutting off my clothes and touching and pinching and bruising my bare body with greedy hands. 

I’m not even screaming when one after another, they take their turn in torturing my limp body. I’m not even screaming, because I’m just lying there: frozen, unable to even blink as my muscles tense up, paralyzing me. I can’t even move, or think straight. And if I could, I’d be screaming, crying, kicking, flailing, hitting, biting, fighting--and not just lying here as cold and stiff as a corpse while they attack every inch of my body---

As soon as I awaken, I sit straight up and wipe the sweat off my forehead. God. It was only a dream, a flashback. Thank God. Lie back down, Tasha. You’re fine. You’re being a wuss. Go to sleep so you’ll be energized for work tomorrow. Lie the hell down. Just lie the hell down, you scarred, broken, weak piece of garbage. 

But as soon as my head hits the pillow and I try to fake-sleep, Deanna wakes up. She raises her head from its nesting spot on the edge of my pillow and looks me straight in the eye, frowning at what I’m sure is a wild stare on my part.

“Tasha?”

“Yeah?” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

Damn. Those empaths know right away. And for an empath my wife is especially perceptive.

“Uh, yeah, kind of, but it wasn’t that bad. Sorry to wake up you up. Lets just go back to sleep, ok?”

“No, what is it? I can sense your fear right now. Strong, overwhelming fear. What was in your nightmare?”

“You sure you want to hear it?”

“Of course I do. Go ahead.”

Her eyes are so soft as she lies at my side and stares at me worriedly, her hands drifting towards mine. I take a firm hold of her hand and sigh. 

“I had a nightmare that was a flashback to when I was younger.”

“You mean...when you were on Turkana V?”

I nod. Horrible place. I’ll never go back to my home planet. And even though I’ll never go back, it still comes to me in my sleep. 

“It was about the gangs. The rape gangs. I dreamt that, you know..” I’m starting to get embarrassed, but she looks at me earnestly. “I dreamt about being raped, and how paralyzed I was. Like I was a damn corpse. Like I wanted it to keep happening or something.”

“Tasha, don’t say that. That’s not remotely true. Listen,” she says, kissing my hand, and then wringing it while she speaks. “What happened to you was not your fault at all, no matter how you reacted.”

“Really? Even when I lay there and let it happen?”

“No! You were never asking for anything, no matter how still or silent you were. Nobody asks to be raped. There is no behavior that justifies rape.” 

She pauses. 

“I know I can’t help much, but I just want to say that I’m so sorry this is still coming back to haunt you, and I promise you that you’re safe now. Promise.”

This time she kisses me on the lips, and it’s warm, soft, inviting--like a true home, not the one of my childhood, the childhood that they--all the men--cut short. I take a deep breath and clutch her hand. 

“God damn, Deanna. You always know how to make things better.”


End file.
